The Sting of Water
by Theater Raven
Summary: Oneshot, based on the 1925 Lon Chaney film. As he is dying, a bitter Erik wants to fling one last insult at Christine.


**The Sting of Water**

Erik came up sputtering, choking on the water that filled his mouth. He had been swimming downstream for some time now. His arms and legs were feeling heavier and heavier with each movement. The tightening pains in his chest were occurring closer and closer together. He could feel the life slowly draining out of him as he swam and the thought that his miserable existence would finally be over was a tremendous relief—he smiled a little as he sank under again.

He felt his feet hit the sandy bottom and he used his aching legs to push himself up to the surface again. He barely got his head above the surface, but it was enough to take a breath. He wished the physical desires of his body were not so involuntary—it was annoying him that he was lengthening his life just because his lungs screamed at him to rise to the surface again for air each time he sank underwater. He wanted the end to come. Yet then, as he was about to sink under the water again, he happened to glance over to the bank and saw Christine and Raoul hurrying along the shoreline.

He flung himself towards the embankment. Seeing her shot the will to live back into him again. He wanted her; he wanted a life with her; he wanted so many things he wasn't even sure exactly what the extent of his longings were. His hand gripped the concrete side of the canal. He dragged himself halfway up but pain gripped his chest and he had to sink back down into the water again.

He locked his gaze on her—she was retreating, so her back was to him, but he hoped he could summon her over with his mind. He stared at her, focusing, focusing so much that his head hurt. She suddenly turned and, seeing a figure struggling on the side of the canal, she rushed over to help. Erik thought that, once she saw the figure in distress was him, that she would run, but, surprisingly, she didn't. He moved his mouth to speak, but it took several times before he could make sound come out.

"Christine . . ."

He reached a wet, trembling hand towards hers. He would live. He would regain his strength. He would write music again and sing and do all the things every person he had ever met told him he would never be able to do. He was just about to clasp her outstretched hand when his eyes locked on something.

Instantly, his eyes narrowed when they locked on the particular object. It burned his vision as if fire was thrown into his eyes. He wanted to have a knife so that he could gouge out his eyes—he would rather be blind than see what he was looking at. A simple wedding band glistened on her finger. He looked up at her, his eyes flaming as if to ask, "How could you?". Then, he realized—of course!—Raoul must have given the ring to her after he rescued her from falling out of the carriage.

Erik stared into her eyes. All there was in them was pity, not love, not the burning passion he felt. If that was all there was, there was no point in living. That ring was the final sign. Christine was looking at him questioningly, as if she was wondering why he was not moving. His fingers lost a little more of their grip.

"Erik, grab my hand," she said. "I'll help you."

Anger suddenly filled him. Of course she wanted to help him—she wanted him to live only so that she could flaunt her happiness in front of him. She knew that the price of her happiness was his suffering. She _knew_ it!

"Let me help you," she said, extending her hand.

A morbid smile flashed onto his face.

"Christine . . ." he said, his voice mockingly sensual.

She leaned down closer to him. The smile on his face widened. He grabbed her wrist, staring directly into her eyes. He gathered enough strength to pull himself so close to her that, for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.

"Never," he whispered.

With his free hand, he splashed water onto her hand and was pleased to see the ring become wet with the sudden rush of water onto her hand. Then, he let go and allowed the river to carry him away.


End file.
